Everything had rolled back on me—my marriage, Father Dan's warning, my promise to Martin's mother.
"Where are we?" I said.
"Hush! Don't speak," said Martin. "Let us think of nothing to-night—nothing except our love."
"Don't say that," I answered. "We are not free to love each other," and then, trying to liberate myself from his encircling arms I cried:
"God help me! God forgive me!"
"Wait!" said Martin, holding me a moment longer. "I know what you feel, and I'm not the man to want a girl to wrong her conscience. But there's one question I must ask you. If you were free, could you love me then?"
"Don't ask me that. I must not answer it."
"You must and shall," said Martin. "Could you?"
"Yes."
"That's enough for me—enough for to-night anyway. Have no fear. All shall be well. Go to your room now."